TwInsanity
by WitchOfDarkness13
Summary: Series of One-shots/short stories that will revolve around one and/or both of the North American twins. Will also include other countries and Mexico will probably feature in quite a few as well. So sit back, relax, and learn why England and France went crazy(er) raising them, why they must wear name tags at meetings, why they're not allowed on group projects together, and more!
1. Chapter 1

Alfred walks into the meeting, hands in his jeans pockets, humming slightly. For once he isn't having to run in at the last minute because of some problem that his boss needed him for. He flops into a chair next to Matthew. The blond haired, violet eyed man looks up.

"You seem rather chipper today, Al," Matthew says.

Alfred shrugs. "Yeah, guess I am. I've also got a song stuck in my head."

Matthew tilts his head. He remembers the last time that his brother had a song stuck in his head. The American had then gone on to share the song and get it stuck in the Canadian's head. Matthew frowns, not quite sure if he wants a repeat, but not wanting to be rude. Finally he gives a soundless sigh and asks, "Which one?"

Alfred looks up. "The Stereotypes Song."

Matthew blinks before laughing. "Oh maple! I love that song!"

"I forgot that you've heard it before," Alfred says, a small grin crossing his face. His eyes then light up. "Hey Mattie, I've got a great idea."

As the other countries come into the room, some of them are surprised at seeing America there on time, but brush it off. The only two countries concerned at the sight of the American and Canadian sitting and talking together are England and France.

"What do you think they're doing?" France asks.

England shakes his head. "I don't know, but I most certainly don't want to find out."

The meeting is then called to order and progresses as it usually does. Doing well for the first few moments before breaking out into mass confusion and bickering. Meanwhile, Matthew and Alfred just watch, both of them now excited with their plan, waiting for the right moment to begin. Finally, it breaks out.

"Well at least I have a sense of taste," France says to England, causing the green eyed Brit to turn red.

Alfred shakes his head before knocking on the table. "You know, I always thought stereotypes were kinda ridiculous." By this point all of the other nations were watching him. "So I wrote a song about it." Austria lets out a small groan. America grins. "And it goes a little something like this."

Music begins to play from the speakers of the room, Alfred had used Matthew's laptop to hack into the system, and the lights turn down, spotlighting various nations while also flashing along to the beat. On the projector words show up and there's a small bouncing Earth. Japan tilts his head and wonders when karaoke had been planned.

Alfred just grins before meandering around the room.

" _I think I love you more than the Japanese love tentacle porn"_

At this Japan turns bright red, his eyes widening slightly.

" _and we should dance, dance, dance, d-d-dance to these stereotypes! Let's come together and live in this world like a unibrow on an Indian girl!"_

India's eyes narrow and she scowls at the dancing blond.

" _And we should dance, dance, dance, d-d-dance to these stereotypes!"_

By now Alfred is dancing around the room while Matthew sits in his seat grinning. With most of the countries focusing on his brother, they don't realize when he stands and takes a breath.

"Check it out now. I love those fat Americans," Matthew begins singing. The other nations turn to him with wide eyes before their heads snap back to Alfred, who is still grinning and dancing. In fact, it almost looks like he's strutting.

"You know they so obnoxious! They always eating burgers, they always holding shotguns!"

To the surprise of several nations, Alfred is indeed holding a shotgun. Where he had it and how he got it into the building is something Germany is determined to figure out.

America smirks. " _And I love Mexicans, the way they mow my lawn_."

Mexico rolls his eyes. He'd actually had to mow Alfred's lawn after losing a bet to his northern neighbor.

" _They all got a hundred kids cause they don't know how to put a condom on!"_

"Uh-huh!"

" _Cause that's the way they roll, you gotta go big like an Israeli nose_!"

Israel rolls his eyes and huffs. He didn't think his nose was that big.

 _"You ever buy a pint for an Irish guy, and they're outta control like a Chinese driver."_

Ireland just shrugs and grins while China huffs and mutters about insolent youth.

Canada by now is dancing through the lights, matching his brother move for move. They glance at each other and the northern nation grins.

"I love the middle east, but how do they handle rockin' burkas while they're ridin' camels?"

Most of the middle eastern countries just look confused, wondering where the idea of them riding camels came from.

" _I love Jamaicans. Yeah, they cool, but they always high so don't let them fool ya_!"

To everyone's surprise Jamaica just cuts in with a quick, "Ya mon."

Canada and America share a grin, glad that at least one of the nations seems to understand.

"And I love them Puerto Ricans."

Puerto Rico looks up with half interest, half resignation.

"Even though they wash their ass about once a week, and,"

Puerto Rico sighs in defeat and shakes his head.

"I'm just joking."

 _"If you didn't know, then you're a little slow and you're probably from Poland!"_

Poland looks slightly confused, before shrugging.

"I think I love you more than the Japanese love tentacle porn! And we should dance, dance, dance, d-d-dance to these stereotypes!"

By now Prussia is bobbing his head to the beat, grinning widely. Denmark is also smiling and bobbing along, but he also breaks out into seat dancing when the chorus comes along.

"Let's come together and live in this world, like a unibrow on an Indian girl, and we should dance, dance, dance, d-d-dance to these stereotypes!"

Alfred and Matthew grin as a few more countries start getting into the song, the happy beat contagious.

 _"Check it out now! Aww yeah! Let me hear you yell!"_

"If you love the Outback redneck Australians!"

Australia is laughing as he throws a fist into the air.

 _"And the crooked ass teeth of an English dude."_

England turns red, his eyebrows furrowing as he glares at his ex-colonies.

"And those creepy Italians,"

 _"Who think they're smooth! "_

Southern Italy is growling while Northern Italy grins before chiming in, "Mama mia!"

 _" And how could anyone hate the French?"_

England glances at France, who is nodding in agreement, wanting to say that it's very easy.

 _"Yeah, I know their hairy women don't shave their pits."_

France stops nodding and huffs before shrugging. Most of the nations are now too into the beat and wanting to find out who would be next in the song.

 _"Brazilian girls is what you want."_

"Walkin' 'round town with that badonkadonk."

Canada mouths a quick 'sorry' to Brazil when the other nations put their focus back on America, who is now doing a rather impressive can-can on the table. Brazil just nods as she waves off the apology.

"I love Africans, but hold up a second."

" _National Geographic says they all butt-nekkid!"_

" _Breasts hanging low, what have they done with their clothes?"_

The African countries start giggling, well aware of how the famous magazine depicts the majority of their continent.

" _Disappeared like coke up a Columbian's nose!_ "

Columbia rolls his eyes, but keeps clapping to the beat. It could've been worse, he supposes.

Matthew quickly cuts off Alfred with a grin. "Uh-oh! You're all on my checklist."

" _Even Russian guys who drink vodka for breakfast,_ " Alfred sings with a slight growl, glaring at Matthew. Russia just blinks and pulls out a bottle of vodka. Germany sighs, realizing he has to see how the Russian snuck that into the meeting.

"They're stereotypes and if you believe them."

" _Then you're brain is small like a Korean penis!"_

Korea grins, "Stereotypes were invented in me—daze!"

" _I think I love you more than the Japanese love tentacle porn! And we should dance, dance, dance, d-d-dance to these stereotypes!"_ Alfred and Matthew are dancing together on the table, most of the other nations clapping along to the beat. " Let's come together and live in this world, like a unibrow on an Indian girl. And we should dance, dance, dance, d-d-dance to these stereotypes!"

" _All together now!"_ Alfred and Matthew grin. _" I love Scotsmen though they hump sheep!"_

Scotland turns bright red and glares at the twins. England smirks.

" _I love Scotsmen though they hump sheep!"_

Prussia and Denmark are dancing around the room by now and have pulled up a couple of other countries, including Austria who is being twirled around by the albino against his own will.

" _I love Scotsmen though they hump sheep!"_

By now Scotland is just grinning and shaking his head.

" _I love Scotsmen though they hump sheep!"_

Germany is grinning slightly.

" _They hump sheep! They hump sheep! They hump sheep!"_

France and Spain have managed to coerce Prussia and Denmark into a conga line. The four grab random nations as they go around the room. Including Russia, much to the surprise of everyone else.

" _I think I love you more than the Japanese love tentacle porn! And we should dance, dance, dance, d-d-dance to these stereotypes!"_

Alfred and Matthew smile, jumping off the table and linking arms.

To their surprise, everyone chimes in, "Let's come together and live in this world, like a unibrow on an Indian girl! And we should dance, dance, dance, dance to these stereotypes!"

"Yeah!"

By now, Alfred and Matthew are back by their seats.

Alfred chuckles. "I'm just playin' you know I love you guys!" He looks like he's suddenly thought about something and turns to Scotland. "But seriously, don't hump any sheep."

Scotland bleats.

 **AN/ First time entering into the Hetalia fandom! Whoo! So, for the most part, I'm going to try and keep this as a humor/family series of stories(hence the genres!), but I will occasionally delve into other things. I will have more of Mexico (names: 1p male= Eduardo, 2p male= Javier, 1p female= Emilia, 2p female= Juliana) later, but I still have stories involving him/her/them to write out. I'll also occasionally post based on my major headcanons(they'll be listed before the main text.). Also, if there's something you wanna see, I do take requests! Just drop me a line, or let me know in a review.**


	2. Test Flight

**A/N: Hey all, so while I was doing some research for this story I ran across something that made me giggle(could've also been because I was writing at one in the morning, but that's beside the point.). Someone had written an article about how they were banned from Canada(which I didn't know could happen) and when they got back to New York they called Canada. Didn't use a name, or business. They called Canada. I instantly thought of Matthew being on the other end of the phone talking to this guy. (For anyone interested, the article can be found at trebuchet-magazine .com (add backslash got-banned-canada backslash to go directly to the article. And take away the space.). Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

Arthur steps onto the porch of Matthew's house and rings the bell. After waiting a few moments, he rings again. With still no response, he begins to wonder if he'd had the date wrong. He needed to meet with the Canadian to discuss some business and he was also hoping that they'd maybe be able to just have a good chat too. Goodness knows it's been forever since he's seen the lad. Arthur huffs and is about to leave when he hears a noise from the other side of the house. Curiosity gets the better of the Brit and he maneuvers around the building. What he sees on the other side of the building is definitely not something that he'd expect.

In the back yard is a giant trebuchet. Unlike the ones he often saw during the middle ages, this one is completely metal. Arthur stands and stares at the giant machine with wide eyes, his mouth agape.

"Hey! Artie! You're gonna catch flies that way!"

Arthur scowls at the blond nation that spoke. "Stop calling me Artie, Alfred!"

Alfred just chuckles before looking toward the top of the machine. "Hey Mattie! Arthur's here!"

Arthur's eyes travel to the top of the trebuchet and feels himself wonder what Matthew's doing at the top of the thing. Still, the nation begins a quick descent, scaring Arthur into thinking that he was going to fall and break open his head. Once his feet touch the ground, Matthew runs over to the island nation.

"Arthur, sorry, I thought it was earlier than it is," Matthew says as he approaches. He slows and gives the Brit a small grin. "Would you like to go inside?"

"After you tell me why you have a trebuchet in your back yard," Arthur says. He wants to go and look closer at it, but waits. "I assume Alfred coerced you into this."

Matthew chuckles. "Other way around actually."

"Wait, what?" Arthur looks at the violet eyed man with surprise.

"Yeah, there's an event coming up and I wanted help building and testing it," Matthew says, he then motions for Arthur to follow him. "Actually, it's probably a good thing you've come. You can tell us what you think might be wrong with it, if anything."

Alfred apparently hears this and pouts. "You doubt my abilities at building a trebuchet? You wound me Mattie."

"Ha! As if that would hurt your ego at all when it comes to building things," Matthew says.

Alfred pauses before shrugging. "Good point. Alright Artie, what do you think?"

Arthur twitches at the name, but still looks over the machine. "It looks fine to me. Bit odd seeing it in all metal instead of wood like I'm used to. Wouldn't the forces of the trebuchet twist and bend the metal?"

"Nope. Or, at least it shouldn't," Alfred says. "We've reinforced any weak points. Plus we're using high grade steel. And we've used cylindrical parts instead of square."

"Wouldn't that weaken it?" Arthur asks.

Alfred shakes his head. "Cylinders are the most structurally sound shape." He pauses. "Actually, a sphere would probably be more structurally sound, but given that there's very few practical ways of being able to make a perfect sphere out of anything for building then the cylinder takes that spot. Although I'm sure that if given enough time, there would be a way to create spherical building materials that can be mass produced."

Matthew grins. "And that's why I brought him in on the project."

"I'm just surprised that you know more than where the nearest McDonald's is," Arthur says.

"Oddly enough, I know just a _little_ more than that," Alfred says, voice dripping sarcasm.

"Alright you two," Matthew says, cutting off Arthur's retort. "I say we try this thing."

Arthur tilts his head. "What do you plan on firing?"

The twins look at each other.

"Do you have somethin' to fire?"

"Nope. You?"

"Not my house dude."

"So? You're here often enough."

"And that means I automatically have things to fire from a _trebuchet_?"

"Considering it's you, I wouldn't doubt it."

"...Good point, but I don't have anything."

Arthur watches as the twins go silent for a moment before their eyes light up.

"What if we—"

"It's possible—"

"Suits?"

"Upstairs."

"So, are we gonna do it?" Alfred asks, an excited grin on his face and his eyes twinkling.

"Definitely," Matthew replies, that same look on his face. "Hold on a moment Arthur, we'll be back in a few minutes."

Arthur watches as the two run into the house. He feels like he was listening in on only one half of a conversation. Rolling his eyes, the green eyed man sits in the grass and listens to the quiet of the woods. Within a couple of minutes, the back door opens again and Arthur turns his head. Matthew and Alfred are now wearing jumpsuits with excess fabric connecting the legs with each other and the arms with the torso. Matthew's is predominantly red with white connecting fabric. There's also a white maple leaf on the left side of his chest. Alfred's suit is mainly blue with red connecting fabric. He has a white star on the left side of his chest. Both are also holding matte black helmets.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asks as he stands, a bad feeling settling into his chest.

"Testing out the trebuchet," Matthew says. He then turns to Alfred. "Who goes first?"

Alfred pauses. "I really want to say me, because let's face it this is completely awesome, but it is your trebuchet. Plus, I can watch it the first time round and see if any adjustments need to be made."

Matthew nods. "Alright, sounds good to me."

Arthur notices a back pack on Matthew's back as the Canadian walks over to the sling of the trebuchet. When the younger nation climbs into the sling Arthur's eyes widen.

"What in bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Arthur snaps.

"We told you, we're testing it," Alfred says, checking to make sure that everything is set.

"We're both about the right weight for what's going to be fired at the event, so it works out perfectly," Matthew says, checking the straps of his back pack. Arthur realizes that it must be a parachute.

Arthur looks between the twins. "You're mad."

"Thank goodness. If I wasn't this'd probably never work," Matthew and Alfred say simultaneously. The twins grin at each other before Matthew puts on his helmet. Alfred checks over the trebuchet again before nodding to Matthew.

"Alright, it's all set. You ready?" Alfred asks, raising his voice a bit.

Matthew curls up a little tighter before giving a thumbs up.

Alfred grins and grabs the rope that will release the weight. Arthur stands there, wondering if he should stop this madness, knowing that he probably should, but finds himself both frozen and highly intrigued as to if this would actually work. After a moment, Alfred pulls the release. The giant metal arm swings, throwing Matthew up into the air before the sling releases him. The two grounded nations watch as he flies as a ball for a bit before flattening out. Just before he is out of sight, they see him extend his arms and legs, catching the wind in his wings and drifting off.

"How do you know that he has enough height so that he doesn't crash?" Arthur asks.

"One, there's a deep valley over there, so he should have plenty of room to deploy his parachute if he wishes. Plus, the nature of the suits allows for someone to make a...rough landing if they're close enough to the ground," Alfred says. He then begins setting up the arm again. "Hey Artie, will you launch me?"

Arthur blusters. "I am not going to partake in this insane plot."

Alfred laughs. "Alright, suit yourself."

Arthur watches as the only world's superpower settles himself in, putting on his helmet and gaining a firm grasp of the rip cord. Arthur begins to seriously debate his sanity for allowing Alfred to do this, especially after he was foolish enough to allow Matthew to do it, but before he can stop the blue eyed man, Alfred has already pulled the cord and is flying through the air. Arthur swears that he can hear a 'whoop!' of excitement during takeoff and shakes his head. The world can say what they want about the North American twins, but Arthur is well aware of the fact that their insanity knows no bounds.


	3. Bad Romance

Matthew flips on the lights to his kitchen as he shuffles to the coffee maker. Another flip of a switch and the machine turns on. He meanders past Nanuq, who is sleepily staggering toward his food bowl, and to the front door. He fumbles with the handle for a few moments before managing to open the lightly stained wooden blockade. The cold air hits him and he shivers, swearing under his breath as he picks up the newspaper on his porch. Retreating to the warmth of the house, he slams the door and shuffles back toward the kitchen and the brewing coffee. Passing his stereo system, Matthew presses the power button and unrolls the newspaper, plopping it down on the counter before grabbing a mug and pouring a cup of delicious brew. While he's pouring some maple syrup into the coffee he glances over the headlines before flipping to the celebrity gossip section. Matthew doesn't take the information here too seriously, but it's always entertaining to read it before all of the horrible news that tends to grace the front pages. As he catches sight of Lady Gaga on the page, he finally notes what song is playing.

 _"My mama told me when I was young…"_

Matthew snorts. "Oh the irony."

He glances over the article before actually reading it. Apparently Lady Gaga has a new boyfriend. Matthew chuckles at this before his eyes catch sight of the person's name. Matthew Williams. The man that Lady Gaga is dating is named Matthew Williams. Matthew reads it again before groaning. _'This can't get any worse.'_

The front door opens.

"Hey, bro, listening to your new girlfriend's music?"

Matthew groans again. _'I stand corrected.'_ "Damn it Al, how many times do I have to tell you to call before you come over and to knock before you come in?" Matthew looks up at his younger-older brother (they haven't figured it out really and aren't going to get into argument 35,813 about it again.). Alfred's smirking in a way that Matthew recognizes all too easily and instantly feels his heart drop. _'Dear lord, please don't let him be thinking what I think he's thinking.'_

"So…I'm wondering when you're gonna tell the rest of the group that you're dating Lady Gaga," Alfred says.

 _'Damn it!'_

"Al…you and I both know that this is just some poor sap with the same name as me," Matthew says, groaning. "Please don't turn this into a spectacle like you did with Eduardo. He still can't look Brazil in the eyes because she, as Francis pointed out, looks so much like Eva Longoria."

Alfred snorts. "Yeah, that's great. Still, think about how much fun we could have with this!"

Matthew glares. "You mean how much fun you could have."

"Maaaaybe."

"Damn it Al. Don't do it!"

Alfred looks up toward the ceiling. "Too late."

Matthew pauses. He blinks. "What?"

Alfred turns back to Matthew, grinning like an idiot. "Too late!"

Matthew flies across the table and grabs the collar of Alfred's shirt. Alfred's eyes widen, but that smile remains plastered to his face. Matthew snarls. "Who did you tell!"

Alfred shakes his head. He blinks when Matthew releases his collar. His eyes widen and the smirk disappears when Matthew grabs a hockey stick that was hiding in the corner of the room. Nothing happens for a moment. Matthew and Alfred stare at each other, Matthew's hands clenching around the hockey stick and Alfred mentally planning different routes out of the house. It seems like they're going to stay there until Nanuq walks in and sneezes. Matthew barely twitches and Alfred takes off running, screaming in holy terror.

Matthew sprints up the stairs, his eyes set on the retreating blond in front of him when his phone rings. He lunges, lands on Alfred, pins him down, and answers his phone. "Hello, this is Matthew Williams speaking."

"Bonjour mon fil! Will you need a ride to the meeting tomorrow?" Francis asks.

Matthew pauses to consider it. "No, I don't think so. Besides, shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"That's right, it's at your place, non? Well, would you be willing to give me a ride? We have so much to catch up on," Francis says.

"Sure, I can pick you up, but what do we need to catch up on?" Matthew asks. He pauses a moment to resituate himself on Alfred's back. The southern nation lets out a soft "oomph!" and glares at his brother. Matthew smirks a moment, setting the end of the hockey stick under his brother's chin. Alfred swallows. "I mean, didn't we spend a couple of evenings chatting over dinner during the last meeting?"

"Oui, but that was before you had une copine."

Matthew sighs. "I don't. Je n'ai pas temps pour une copine."

Francis chuckles. "If you say so. À demain!"

Matthew sighs again before hanging up. He closes his eyes and rubs at the bridge of his nose. He then looks down at Alfred, only to narrow his eyes. Alfred had somehow wiggled his way out and replaced himself with Nanuq. Matthew stands and looks around. He knows Alfred can't have snuck downstairs, there's only one way up or down and Matthew's been sitting in front of them the entire time. He looks down at Nanuq and smiles. "I think little Alfie wants to play hide and seek! This should be _fun_."

 **AN/ I'm so sorry that this is so late in being put up! School, work, and being sick is not a fun combo. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Marzue who made the request. I know this is shorter than the previous two chapters, but I've an idea for it and plan on bringing back this arc in a later chapter. Anyway, thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites and follows! Those seriously made my day. Oh, and if you want more N. American bro-ness (and sometimes more as the author does ship them) then I suggest reading pretty much anything by Ashynarr. Seriously, they are an amazing writer and they've influenced my writing a great deal, especially with these two lovable idiots (For instance, renaming Kumowhatsit as Nanuq). So if you read something in my writing that reads a lot like what they've written, it's probably because I've subconsciously copied that. Ok, again, if there are any headcanons or ideas you have that you'd like me to write, let me know!**


	4. What is Wrong?

As the other nations settle down for a meeting, Germany glances around, mentally taking attendance. He glances at America and Canada, marking them as present. He's about to move onto the next nation when he glances back at them. Something seems off. He looks over the two nations. They're chatting about something, Canada with a small smile and America with a large grin. He frowns, eyes narrowed at them for a few more minutes before shaking his head and moving on. Whatever it is, he'll figure it out.

While Germany is starting the meeting, England's attention is split between paying attention and trying to determine what is off about Alfred and Matthew. Neither of them have a cold or anything health related, they're not injured, and they aren't acting any differently. There's something off about them though, and he cannot determine what is bothering him. What is so unusual about the two that he cannot concentrate?

Russia isn't that interested in what's being said at the meeting. It's all the same anyway. They spend the first hour, maybe, discussing an actual subject or two, possibly three depending on the speakers, before dissolving into their usual petty arguments and jokes. Honestly, that's what these meetings are mainly about. A chance to get together with their fellow nations. A chance to be with people who _understand_ what it's like to, practically, live forever. He's brought from his musings when a paper air plane lands in front of him. Russia picks it up and unfolds it, the crisp white paper a nice contrast to the dark worn brown of his leather gloves—General Winter had traveled toward the south west, causing parts of his land to freeze, hence the gloves—and his eyes dance along the page. The scrawl, it cannot be called anything else, is messy as usual. It's large and dented into the page, a habit of the hard writing and the paper that was under it as the message was written. These three characteristics have never changed. Not once. However, the spacing and slant of the writing is always changing, always evolving. Even in this short message, Russia can point out where the writing goes from being slanted to the right over to the left and then straight before going through various combinations of the three. The spacing tends to be varied. Sometimes the words are so close together that they seem to be one, and at other times so far apart that it confuses Russia for a moment. The large man glances up at the blond nation, raising an eyebrow. Excited blue eyes meet his and the other nation grins wide when Russia nods before turning back to his neighbor and twin. Russia glances at the note and then back at the two nations. He can tell that there's something off, but sets that thought to the side. The words, "Wanna play some hockey after the meeting?" popping back up at him. Maybe he can figure out what is going on before the game.

Cuba frowns, his eyes switching between his buddy Canada and that obnoxious capitalist neighbor of theirs. There's something off about them, but he cannot tell what it is. That he can't tell bothers him. He knows Canada the best out of pretty much all the other nations. The only exceptions would probably be Prussia, though that guy isn't a nation and is only here occasionally, and France, who raised the North American nation for a bit so probably knows about him. That there is something off about Canada and he cannot determine what that is, bothers the island nation. He huffs and mentally blames the blue eyed nation next to his friend.

It isn't all that surprising to China that everyone is in a not so subtle huff about what is wrong with the North American twins. He can tell that there's something off about the two of them, but isn't concerning himself with it. It's probably a joke between the two of them. He sighs, wondering when England and France will come to realize that they've been fooled by their little brothers again.

Japan glances between America and Canada a couple of times before sighing. He cannot determine the difference in the two countries and is sure that he won't determine it for a while. He holds back another sigh and determines that western nations are very odd indeed.

Eduardo looks between Alfred and Matthew and rolls his eyes. He'd been wondering what the other nations had been up in arms about concerning those two, but of course it would be because of something so stupid. Then again…if those two managed to make this much of a ruckus with something so simple…. Eduardo smiles, just imagining what would happen should Alfred and Matthew decide to actually cause chaos.

As the meeting continues, various nations keep glancing at the North American twins before turning back to what is going on at the front. None of them can figure out what's wrong and there's soon grumbling about the room. After lunch, the feeling continues before England stands, slamming his hands against the table. Everyone turns to him, wondering what the island nation wants.

"What in bloody hell is going on with you two?" England asks, starting at the North American duo seated across from him. "Something has been off about the two of you all day!"

Alfred blinks before shrugging. "I've no idea what you're talking about Artie. Mattie and me are fine."

"Mattie and I," England says automatically. "And don't give me that. I know something is wrong."

"Seriously, Arthur," Matthew says. "Nothing's wrong." His blue violet eyes turn worried. "Are you alright? If you're thinking something's wrong with Al and me, maybe you're sick or something?"

England waves off the concern. "I'm fine, though I know something's different between you two." He glances between the brothers again and frowns. "Are either of you feeling peakish?"

Alfred and Matthew both shake their heads before saying, "No, we're fine."

As other nations add onto England's claim, no one notices that the brothers have slight smirks for a moment before it disappears. After France asks if they're alright, they both sigh.

Alfred shakes his head. "Seriously, we're both fine."

"So why don't you just drop it?" Matthew says, picking up right after his brother.

"With the way you all are acting—"

"—It's become obvious that none of you—"

"—are paying the slightest attention to the meeting."

"So I suggest that we end it for today and recommence—"

"—it tomorrow after you have had some sleep."

The twins stand and pack away their bags, every motion in perfect synch with each other. They then give the assembled nations grins before saying, "Have a good day gentlemen, and ladies, and we shall see you tomorrow."

As the twins leave, the rest of the nations keep quiet for a few moments before chatter breaks out. Outside of the meeting room, Matthew and Alfred walk down the hall, their footsteps and everything else in perfect synch. They keep up the act until they make it to one of the spare rooms and enter it. After closing and locking the door, the two begin laughing, using the other to hold each other up. After a while, Matthew pulls off the glasses he's wearing to wipe his eyes. Alfred pulls off the glasses he's wearing and the brothers trade. It takes them a few moments before they can settle down enough to talk.

"I can't believe that still works!" Alfred says. "It was pure genius to suggest we try it again."

Matthew grins. "Thank you! I can't believe it still works too. Though adding in the twinspeak and whatnot makes it even better. Did you see their faces?"

"Oh, absolutely! Best thing I've seen in a while. Still, I think Russia may have figured it out," Alfred says.

"Aww well," Matthew says, shrugging. "I doubt he'll tell anyway."

Alfred smirks. "Of course he won't. He'll find it too amusing." Alfred stretches before looking excited. "Oh! He told me he's willing to join us for a game."

Matthew grins. "Oh, this is going to be good. Him, you, and me, all against my providences and your states. Which ones are playing again?"

"Alaska, Maine, Illinois, North and South Dakota, Montana, New York, Minnesota, Colorado, and, amazingly enough, Texas," Alfred says.

"You've told Texas that he can't bring his lasso, right?" Matthew asks.

Alfred raises his eyebrows. "So that's what I forgot to tell him."

"Alfred…"

The blonde super nation then smirks. "Well, I guess if he plans on using his, it's a good thing I brought mine along with."

Matthew bursts out laughing again before being lead out of the room.

 **AN/ Hey all! Here's the fourth chapter. I'm not 100% sure if I'll be able to publish another chapter soon, school and work are both being a pain, but I'll see what I can do. Anyway, thank you to my lovely reviewers, those always make my day. On the subject of reviews, though, I'm going to take a moment to ask that if you're going to leave a review that's negative about someone's work, please make it constructive. Criticism is fine, but (and I'm sure all of you know this) constructive criticism (or anything other than "this is horrible") is the best thing for a writer. I'm sorry if you all already knew this, but I recently received a critical review that held nothing constructive or even why the reader didn't like the work. It's not the negativity of the review that bothered me, but the lack of a "here's what I didn't like" or "What you could've done better is _". Anyway, rant over.**

 **Oh, and a good read is _Part Right, Half Wrong, a Third Crazy_ by Save the Rave. Unfortunately, it's unfinished and it doesn't look like there's going to be an update any time soon. That being said, the writing is magnificent, minus a few grammatical mistakes, and the story is really well paced and thought out. Another good read is The Way Things Are by PersonifyThis. It can get quite heart wrenching at times (this being said by someone who was called a heartless bitch and laughed at it), but it's well worth the money spent on Kleenex.**


	5. Ra Ra ooh La La (aka, Revenge sparkles)

Matthew sighs and glances at the clock in his car. Francis is running late. Again. Just as he's about to pull out his phone and call the Frenchman again, the passenger door opens and Francis slides into the seat.

"Bonjour! Mattheu!" Francis says.

Matthew smiles. "Bonjour papa, ça va?"

"Bon, et tu?"

"Bon," Matthew says. He pulls from the parking lot and starts driving toward the meeting building. "Except Alfred's avoided me for the last twenty-four hours, so I haven't been able to get him back for his little…joke."

Francis chuckles. "Ah, oui, the Lady Gaga thing. Maybe you can get him back at the meeting? It's not like he can avoid it, non?"

"C'est vrai. That's actually a good point," Matthew says. He stops at a light and thinks for a few moments. Francis watches as the Canuck gets a familiar gleam in his eyes and begins to smirk. "That's actually a _very_ good point."

"Just try not to get any bystanders in the crossfire, s'il vous plait?" Francis asks. "I don't want to have my hair dyed again."

Matthew laughs. "I'd completely forgotten about that! That was a good day, eh?"

Francis doesn't say anything, just smiles slightly before looking out of the window. He's always found Matthew's country beautiful. The meeting is in Vancouver this time. Last time it was in Saskatoon, and before that it was in Saint John. Francis is brought from his musing when he spies a building that looks like a cruise ship with five event tents on it. Francis tilts his head and wonders what it is. He then turns to Matthew, who seems to be rather relaxed even with the gleam still in his eyes.

"Mattheu? Qu'est immeuble ça?" Francis asks, pointing toward the architectural oddity.

Matthew blinks, brought forth from thoughts of plans that involved tying Alfred up and making him hang upside down while Matthew had Nanuq lie on Al's beloved jacket, shedding all over the thing. He knows it may not seem like a good revenge, but considering that Nanuq's fur burrows into fabrics and Al would be finding pieces of fur for years to come, Matthew considered it a fair trade off.

"Hmm? Oh, that's Canada Place. It's actually where we're holding the meeting today," Matthew says. He smiles slightly at the sight of the building before turning back to the road. "It was built in 1986 as the Canada Pavilion. It's the home port for a cruise ship terminal, and houses the Pan Pacific Hotel, FlyOver Canada, and the World Trade Centre."

Francis nods. "I'm glad we're in a place of such importance and history."

"Yeah, this area has a lot of history. I don't think I could go over it all in the five minutes we've left in the car," Matthew says, chuckling.

"We'll have to sit down and talk it over one day," Francis says. "Thought what I'd like to know is if you've determined what you're going to do regarding tu frère?"

"I have an idea or two," Matthew says. A moment later and he pulls into a parking space. The two climb out of the car and grab their briefcases and start toward the meeting room.

"Ai, Matthew, hold up hermano!"

Matthew stops and turns. Eduardo runs to catch up with the other two nations and walks with them into the building. "How are you Eduardo?" Matthew asks.

"Asi asi. You know, it's a meeting day and your nation is cold as hell," Eduardo says with a small grin. "And you?"

"Oh, I'm alright," Matthew says, shrugging.

Francis snorts. "Don't let him fool you. Mathieu is planning on getting Alfred back for some comments Alfred's made."

Eduardo groans. "Dios mio. Matthew, you remember what happened the last time you two got into a mess like this, right?"

At that comment, Matthew's grin turns downright frightening. Francis takes a small step away from the Canadian while also looking at Eduardo with curiosity. Eduardo shakes his head and mouths 'later'. Meanwhile, the Canadian has regained that gleam in his eye and still has that grin on his face. Matthew begins to whistle as he heads for the conference room. Eduardo and Francis hang back, watching Matthew as he seems to almost skip to a door and walk in. The two glance at each other, eyebrows raised.

"Should we warn Alfred?" Francis asks.

"It would be the polite thing to do…" Eduardo says. He then smirks. "But it'll be more fun if we don't. Plus, I'm kind of looking forward to what Matthew comes up with."

Francis blinks. "I keep forgetting that you three are tight knit."

Eduardo shrugs. "That's what happens when you grow up together. Cousins or no."

"Cousins? Didn't you call Mathieu brother earlier?" Francis asks.

"Si. Technically, we're cousins. But we're all close enough that Matthew, Alfred, and myself consider ourselves brothers," Eduardo says. He then rolls his eyes. "Of course, that means having to put up with the hyperactive spazz that Alfred can be and the scarily passive aggressive sass-master that is Matthew."

"Don't forget that it means we have to put up with your overly stubborn lazy ass."

Eduardo spins around, eyes narrowed. Alfred is leaning against a wall, a laptop case slug across his chest and his arms crossed. Eduardo walks up to Alfred, hissing in Spanish and making wide gestures.

Alfred smirks. "English, Eduardo. En-glish!"

"Rosetta Stone!" Eduardo snaps.

Alfred rolls his eyes and flips Eduardo off. After a moment he grins widely and pulls Eduardo into a hug. "Hey, good ta see ya man."

Eduardo chuckles. "Yeah, good to see ya too."

"Did ya get the package I sent ya?" Alfred asks.

Eduardo nods. The two begin walking toward the meeting room, Alfred keeping his arm around Eduardo's shoulders. "It came at the perfect time too."

"Great! I was hoping it would get to you on time. Anyway, anyone have any idea as to what Mattie has planned for this shindig?" Alfred asks.

Francis glances at Eduardo, who just shakes his head. Eduardo then glances toward the meeting door. "Though I did hear him whistling as he walked into the room, so I'm guessing he's in a good mood."

Alfred chuckles. "Let's hope so."

"Un momento," Eduardo says, glancing at Alfred. He then groans. "Qué hiciste, tú idiota?"

"Why am I always the one being blamed?" Alfred asks. He glances toward the ceiling, muttering under his breath before looking back to Eduardo. "And idiota yourself."

Francis shakes his head, watching as the two bicker as they walk into the meeting room. As he walks in behind them, he notices that Alfred keeps glancing at Mathieu with a slightly weary look. Eduardo pretends not to notice as he waves Alfred on and takes his seat. Alfred lingers a moment before going to his spot. He sets down his bag before pulling out his chair and sitting. Water drenches him. Alfred blinks, unmoving as water drips from his hair. His clothes are plastered to his skin, his glasses are slightly askew, and he seems to be in a state of shock. Glitter falls from the ceiling, blocking Alfred from view for a moment. When he's finally visible again, he's covered in red and silver bits of glitter, the light bouncing off every bit of him.

Matthew is laughing in the corner.

Alfred's eyes narrow. "I'm going to assume this is your doing."

Matthew can't speak, he's laughing so much, so he just nods.

"Seriously? Glitter?" Alfred looks like he's going to wipe at his face but thinks better of it. "This stuff is evil. Honestly, it's like the herpes of the craft world."

Matthew calms down enough to be able to speak. "Two words: Sugar, Water."

Alfred's eyes widen for a moment before narrowing. "The fuck do you fucking mean?"

"It wasn't just regular water. It was sugar water," Matthew says. When he sees Alfred's face he starts howling again, doubling over and clutching his stomach.

"You fuckin' prick! How fuckin' dare you, ya fuckin' cocky ass whiney fuckin' bitch!" Alfred snarls, a New York accent coming out and strengthening. "You fuckin' wait, I'll get you back, you fuckin' snow brained pussy!"

Matthew just laughs harder. By this time the rest of the countries have filed into the room and the door was closed. The other countries all stare at Alfred, wondering what's going on. He huffs and stands to see if he can wash any of the glitter off, but is stopped by Nanuq blocking his way. Alfred contemplates going around the bear or moving it by force, but dismisses the thought. Nanuq would just move if Alfred were to try going around him, and Matthew would go postal if Alfred accidentally hurt the bear. Huffing, the American flops back into his seat and decides to spend the time until their lunch glaring at his twin and determining what revenge to take.

 **AN/ Sorry this has taken so long (I did warn you though!), but here's the next chapter. So this one has evolved from the previous Bad Romance chapter and, in all honesty, may evolve into a prank war between the two of them. And a bit more of Mexico! Whoo! Oh, sorry if my Spanish is off, it's been years since I've taken the language and have been working with English to Spanish dictionaries. Oh, and yes, that is what a New Yorker sounds like when pissed off(at least all the ones I've met swear like sailors when pissed off. Then again, so do Chicagoans, so maybe it's just an American thing.) Thank you for the reviews, follows, and everything else, y'all are awesome!**


	6. Cops, Robbers, and The Clash

Matthew almost groans when he sees Alfred's face. It was a tradition for them to work together every once and a while on jobs. Usually, they traded back and forth on picking the jobs so that they didn't get too bored with it. Last time, Matthew had picked them working as lumberjacks for pure shits and giggles because he thought it would be hilarious. Sure enough, it had been. The number of axes that Alfred had gone through because he hadn't wanted to watch his strength had reached well over a hundred by the end of the first week. This time, Alfred had picked. And he had decided they were going to be cops. Not a big deal, they'd done it before and it was usually rewarding to do such. Just…at the moment Matthew wished that they hadn't caught the guy in a bank robbery. Because Alfred had that smile on his face. The smile that says he's going to do something he thinks is totally hilarious, but is probably pretty stupid. Sure enough, as soon as the drum roll starts from the speakers of their cruiser, Matthew groans.

"Really Alfred? Really?" Matthew asks as I Fought the Law by the Clash begins to play.

Instead of answering, Alfred just smiles, dancing along to the song as best he can while driving. Matthew glances in the rear-view and spots the robber's face. It's a mix of incredulous-ness and amusement.

"I fought the law and the law won!" Alfred sings, tapping on the divider on the words "law won".

Matthew groans, but by now he has a grin creeping on his face. His brother is an idiot. A lovable, goofy, completely adorkable idiot. By now, the robber is chuckling, which is quite the change from the sour look he was wearing when they'd put him in the back seat. Deciding to go with is Matthew wipes the grin from his face as best as possible, though he isn't terribly successful with it, as he turns to the guy in their back seat.

"I'm sorry, I promise we're professionals." Matthew pauses a moment. "But to be fair, he had entirely too much sugar at lunch and is a bit hyperactive."

His "serious" face is ruined by Alfred's drumming, which had been on the steering wheel, borrowing his head for a couple of beats before turning back to the wheel. Matthew's look of _why me?_ must have been something because the guy in back bursts out laughing.

 **AN/ I'm not dead! Whoo! Anyway, sorry that it's been so long since I've updated this (though not as long as some of my other stories *looks back at the grumbling Harry Potter fans* ha...). No, I wasn't bogged down with college (I've graduated! Whoo!). No, I wasn't avoiding posting because of the elections (yes, I'm American, no I don't wanna talk about them...). Yes, I've had things written, I just haven't had anything I wanted to post. That said, I'll hopefully be feeling up to posting more soon, but I felt bad and wanted you all to enjoy this little mini story that I'd typed up. So...yeah...hope you liked it! (btw, I'm totally gonna do this if I become a cop. At least once.)**


	7. In This Moment

**AN/ Hey all. This one is a bit different than the previous in that it's from Fem!1p America's pov. Also, quick reminder as to who is who...  
Alfred aka Al-Duh.  
Matthew aka Mattie-Duh.  
Amelia aka Amy- Fem!1p America  
Madeline aka Maddie/Mads-Fem!1p Canada  
Fred- 2p America  
Matt-2p Canada  
Ann-Fem!2p America  
Margaret aka Marg- Fem!2p Canada  
Yes, it's another story with song lyrics in it, but I honestly love this song. Plus, it seemed like a good fuck you song for Amelia to sing. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy it and I'll try to update again soon.  
**

Amelia glances around the bar, smiling slightly. She's glad that all of the others are enjoying themselves. She grabs her glass of Jack and drowns it in one go. Setting the glass down, she flags the bartender, glad that she rented the place out for the night. While she enjoys having her citizens around, too many of them when countries and alcohol mix doesn't always have the best consequences. Amelia catches sight of Madeline and waves her over. She has to admit that the Canadian looks really cute tonight. Apparently Madeline decided to forgo her usual skirt, shirt, and sweater combo for a pair of short shorts, a halter top, and a cropped jacket. Must have raided Margaret's closet.

"Maddie!" Amelia says, throwing her arm around her sister with a smile. "You look exceptionally cute tonight. Raid Marg's closet?"

Madeline huffs. "Oh yes, because I can't have any cute clothing of my own."

"No, you have cute clothes, but these are damn close to drop dead sexy," Amelia says with a wink. "Something, last I knew, you didn't really own."

"Like you don't own a black pleather corset," Madeline says, pointedly eyeing up the garment Amelia is wearing. "I guess Ann is missing something from her own wardrobe too."

"I didn't steal it though, I asked and she let me have it," Amelia protests.

"Whatever you say Amy," Madeline says. She then smiles. "Guess what, Kiku found a karaoke machine and is wheeling it out."

"Seriously?" Amelia asks. "Awesome! Too bad Al and Mattie aren't here. They're kickass at karaoke!"

Madeline nods. "True, but I guess we'll have to show them that we're just as good."

The two sisters talk about what songs they can do and finally narrow down the list a bit. By now quite a few of the countries had already gone. Feliks had done a very impressive version of "Barbie Girl", Kiku had sung "Walking on Sunshine", Prussia had managed to cajole Ludwig into a German metal song that had the entire bar surprised at how well the two could sing, and Hungary had done perfect justice to "I Love Rock and Roll". Amelia is about to suggest to Madeline that they go on next when she overhears part of a conversation.

"…I know, and have you seen how she's dressed tonight? I swear, that American bitch keeps dressing even more like a slut every time I see her."

"Tell me about it. And if you've seen the way she goes after a hotdog then you know she'd be good at giving head."

"What do you expect when that's all that's valued in a culture like this?"

"Nothing much. Still, if she would learn her fucking place, it wouldn't be so bad."

"Maybe we could teach her. Sometimes you've got to beat a pretentious bitch."

Amelia feels a flare of anger. Those bastards. She knows that they're among the first to copy whatever passes as on trend in her country. And they know nothing about her! Amelia sets down her glass, worried that if she grips it any tighter that she'll end up shattering it. She then feels a hand on her shoulder. Glancing over, concerned violet eyes meet hers.

"You alright?" Madeline asks.

Amelia shakes her head. "I'm fucking tired of those assholes thinking they know everything about me."

"Do you want to go home?" Madeline asks.

Amelia's phone chimes. She looks down and sees a text from Al. 'Hey Amy! Mattie, Ann, Marg, Fred, and Matt are here for a movie. If you two get sick of those assholes, come on over. Oh, and you still owe me my In This Moment cd.~Alfred' Amelia's eyes light on the message and she thinks for a moment. A smirk crosses her face and she turns to Madeline. "Maddie, I've got a brilliant idea. You know that group that Ann got me and Al into?"

Madeline pauses before nodding. "In This Moment, yeah. What about them?"

"How about we sing one of their songs before ditching this place?" Amelia asks. "I was thinking of their song Whore."

Madeline blinks before nodding. "Sounds like a plan, but I don't know the lyrics."

"You know the guitar?" Amelia asks.

Madeline nods.

"Wanna play and show them how badass of a guitarist you are?"

Madeline's reply grin would've made Margaret proud. "Definitely."

As the two are heading up to the stage several of the nations begin placing bets to which song they're going to sing. The main artists are Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, and Miley Cyrus. Amelia smirks. She wonders how much longer it's going to take them to realize that her country listens to more than pop. While Madeline sets up the guitar, ignoring a couple of comments directed at her and questioning her knowledge of the instrument, Amelia finds a version of the song that doesn't have the guitar in it. Finally she sets up the computer and nods to Madeline. When Madeline is ready, she gives Amelia a thumbs up. Amelia presses play. The first few notes of the song surprise the other nations into silence.

" _I'm the girl you've been thinking about_." Amelia feels a certain calm fall over her and she gives a sly smile. " _The one thing you can't live without. I'm the girl you've been waiting for, I'll have you down on your knees, I'll have you begging for more_."

The lights tone down and a floor light settles on Amelia and Madeline each.

" _You probably thought I wouldn't get this far. You thought I'd end up in the back of a car. You probably thought I'd never escape. I'd be a rat in a cage, I'd be a slave to this place_." Amelia thinks on how many times she'd been told that she'd never get out of the circumstances, whatever they were, that held her down. Every time she had. And no one, not one of the countries outside of the representatives of America and Canada knew what she'd gone through to do such. " _You don't know how hard I fought to survive_ " Pearl Harbor had really hit her hard, literally. She still bore the scar. As did Al, Fred, and Ann. " _Waking up alone when I was left to die_." It still hurt that Arthur had left her to die after she'd been attacked in the Indian Wars. He's apologized for it since then, but it still hurt. " _You don't know about this life I've lived, all these roads I've walked, all these tears I've bled. So how can this be? You're praying to me. There's a look in your eyes, I know just what that means_." And she had seen that look in several of the other nations' eyes. " _I can be, I can be your everything…_ "

A pause. A breath.

" _I can be your WHORE!_ " The scream is perfect. Part yell, part guttural, and completely shocking if the looks she's receiving says anything. " _I am the dirt you created_." She was made up of the unwanted from every country, the dirt of the world. " _I am your sinner, I am your whore. But let me tell you something baby, you love me for everything you hate me for_!"

She can see several of the other nations either rolling their eyes or actually listening. The division is pretty clear and pretty obvious. It's a little surprising which nation falls in which category, but there's no denying who is where. Prussia is bobbing his head, listening to every word. Ludwig is right next to him, a little more reserved, but no less observant.

" _I'm the one that you need and fear_." Oh, all the truth in that. " _Now that you're hooked, it's all becoming clear_." It'd been clear for a while, now's just the breaking point. " _That all your judgements that you placed on me, was a reflection of discovery. So maybe next time when you cast your stones, from the shadows of the dark unknown, you will crawl up from your hiding place. Take a look in the mirror, see the truth in your face_." Surprisingly, at least to Amelia, Arthur is listening as well. He has a small smirk on his face and when his eyes catch hers, he gives a small wink. She has to admit, he's become more reserved in partaking in any of the other nations' bitching about her and her siblings. If he does make fun of them, it's usually only teasing. Besides, it's not like they don't give back as good as they get.

" _So how can this be? You're praying to me. There's a look in your eyes, I know just what that means. I can be, I can be your everything_." Amelia is bouncing off her right leg while Madeline is keeping up with her. " _I can be your WHORE_!" Madeline head banging is truly awesome considering how much hair that girl has.

" _I am the dirt you created! I am your sinner, I am your whore. But let me tell you something baby. You love me for everything you hate me for!"_ By now Hungary is also nodding along to the music, grinning. When Austria seems to bitch about the music to her, she just rolls her eyes and, in a surprising move, hits him with a pool stick. She turns back to Amelia and nods, lip syncing to the music.

" _I am the dirt you created! I am your sinner, I am your whore. But let me tell you something baby. You love me, you want me, you need me!_ " Amelia runs a hand from her hip up along her side and chest to her hair. She then drops the hand to the mic, pounding her feet to the music. " _I can be your WHORE! I am the dirt you created! I am your sinner, I am your whore. But let me tell you something baby! You love me for everything you hate me for!"_

She's now standing back to back with Madeline, who is working the guitar and adding in backup vocals when she can. By now the few humans in the bar have their fists raised, heads banging. _"I can be your whore! I can be your whore! I CAN BE YOUR WHORE! But let me tell you something baby! YOU LOVE ME FOR EVERYTHING YOU HATE ME FOR! You love me for everything you hate me for."_

As the song ends, Madeline tosses the guitar to one of the stage hands while Amelia just drops the mic. Those nations paying attention to the song stand up applauding and whistling while the ones who took it at face value just sneer. Prussia and Arthur are standing on the bar, fingers in mouth as they whistle, the sound echoing above the din. Amelia and Madeline walk from the bar, heads high and hands raised with linked arms. When they get to the door, Amelia's surprised to see Matthew and Alfred standing there, twin grins on their faces.

"How long have you two been here?" Amelia asks.

Matthew gives a small grin. "Just before Al sent you that text."

Amelia and Madeline look on with wide eyes as Alfred smirks. He tilts his head and asks, "What? You thought I just had really good timing?"

"Well, it's been known to happen before," Amelia and Madeline say.

Alfred shrugs. "True. Come on, we've got a movie waiting at home. Oh, and feel lucky that it's just us two here."

"Why?" Amelia asks.

"Cause if Fred and Matt had heard what those two fucking dipshits had said about you, then the authorities would have been needed," Matthew says. Both girls are somewhat surprised to hear him swear. Usually it takes a lot to make him swear, just the same for Madeline and Margaret. Matt is a weird exception to that rule. "Hell, I was barely able to hold back Al."

Al snorts. "I imagine if you hadn't pushed me outta the building that you mighta joined me from how their comments were going."

Mattie shrugs. "Probably."

Alfred glances over his shoulder at the two girls. "Oh, Ann and Marg made treats for the both of ya. I snuck a couple out on the way here. Get any crumbs or whatever in my car and I'll kill ya."

Amelia and Madeline glance at each other before smiling. They're glad that they've got their family.


	8. Experiance

Matthew looks around, smiling and shaking his head when he catches sight of Alfred and Arthur bickering over something trivial. He glances at Francis and the two just shrug. At least it isn't a major fight. He's about to say something to Francis when he hears yelling. Blinking, Matthew looks around the park, trying to determine where the sound from. He barely notices Alfred looking around as well when he spots the couple standing a bit away from the playground fighting. They look upset and he can tell that the argument is going to get bad soon. He catches Alfred's eye and his brother nods and they start heading toward the people.

"You talk with the adults and I'll help the kids," Alfred says.

Matthew blinks, but nods. He hadn't even seen the kids. He figured that there were some around because of the toys that the woman was holding, but didn't know where they were. Alfred splits off from Matthew and walks over to two kids who are hanging out around the park bench a bit away from the arguing adults.

"I've told you a thousand times, I don't want my kids visiting your sister! She's irresponsible and a horrible influence!" the man snaps.

 _"Why would you let Gilbert spend time around Matthew and Alfred after I've told you not to? He's a horrible person!"_

The woman snarls. "Says the man who decided to go on a weeklong bender when he was at a work conference and lost his job because of it! I need a break! I need some time where I don't have to worry about the kids overhearing something they shouldn't!"

 _"If you would spend a day away from your godforsaken rum, we wouldn't be in this situation!"_

Matthew coughs slightly, catching the attention of the two adults. "Sorry, I normally wouldn't intrude, but it seems like there's a bit of a problem, and I was wondering if I might be able to help?"

Matthew is relying on the supposed talent he has which persuades people to calm their anger and let him help them. Alfred's joked that Matthew could step in front of a rampaging bull and get it to stop just by asking please. Matthew's told him to shove it up his ass, as Alfred would grab the bull by the horns and flip it upside down and get it to give up by sitting on it. Alfred, the jerk, had just laughed and agreed.

The woman smiles. "That's awfully kind of you, but I don't think there's anything that can help with _him_."

 _"You're such a sweet boy Matthew, but Francis is beyond help."_

"Yeah, says the cheating bitch," the man scoffs.

 _"I may be the country of love, but unlike_ some _people, I have_ never _cheated on someone I love!"_

The woman groans. "I haven't cheated on you! Anything that was between Hannah and I is long gone by now! Besides, she's involved with a new girlfriend in Reno."

"Oh, so you know where she lives now?"

"Yes I do, because unlike you, I'm not a complete asshole and actually have friends!"

 _"Well look at that, the black sheep of Europe is all alone again."_

"I have friends!"

 _"I have friends!"_

"Oh, did one of them break out of prison?"

 _"Ones that are real?"_

"Excuse me," Matthew says, stepping forward. "Yelling and insulting each other isn't going to help you. I remember you saying something about your kids staying with her sister, why is that such a problem?"

"Because she's an irresponsible child," the man says.

 _"He drinks and smokes and is cruel!"_

"And yet she takes care of them just as well, if not better than we do," the woman snaps before Matthew can comment.

 _"He adores both kids and would never hurt a hair on them! Even I can admit that!"_

"In what ways is she irresponsible?" Matthew asks.

"She's a tattoo artist, has a motor bike, plays too many video games," the man begins to list.

Matthew cuts him off. "None of those things sound particularly bad. I may not know much, but my niece is a tattoo artist and my own brother rides a bike and plays video games probably more often than he should, but I wouldn't say that's being irresponsible. Has she ever endangered the kids?"

The man pauses. "Well, no…but I still don't want her around them!"

 _"It doesn't matter! Alistor shouldn't be around them!"_

Matthew mentally sighs. This is going to take a while.

~*-(Meanwhile)-*~

Alfred heads towards the kids while Matthew heads towards the parents. The older child, a girl who looks about seven years old, is unconsciously standing in front of her brother who looks around five. Neither kid is paying attention to him and he settles on the bench before coughing. The boy looks over and his eyes spot Alfred's shirt.

"You like Batman?" the boy asks.

Alfred smiles. "Yep, he's pretty awesome."

The girl looks to her brother. "Ricky, we're not supposed to talk to strangers!" She leans closer and whispers, though Alfred can still hear it, "We'll get in trouble if we do!"

 _"Alfred, we shouldn't be out here! We'll get into so much trouble!"_

Ricky blinks. "Oh…right…"

"Well, my name's Al," Alfred says. He then nods back toward Matthew and the kids' parents. "And that's my brother Mattie."

The girl frowns and looks suspicious. At least she's not watching the fight between their parents anymore.

 _Alfred watches as they argue again. Their voices grow louder and he doesn't even notice when he places himself between Matthew and their arguing parents._

"Tell us three things about yourself," the girl says.

Alfred smiles. "Well, I have a rather fat cat at home. His name is Hero and he's one of the laziest things you've ever seen. I love a really good homemade apple pie, especially when it has cinnamon in it. Umm…" Alfred thinks, trying to remember something that he could tell the kids that would distract them. "Oh, I've flown over almost all of the countries in the world."

Their eyes widen. "How did you do that?"

"I was a pilot in the Air Force for about ten years," Alfred says.

"You were in the military?" the boy asks. "That's so cool!"

Alfred smiles. "Yeah, it was pretty cool."

As he chats with the kids, he notices that the girl, Vanessa (though she prefers to go by her middle name Beth) keeps looking over toward her parents. She's still reserved. Still watching. She doesn't seem quite as nervous though.

 _There's a crash from the kitchen and Alfred's eyes widen. He moves to Matthew and pulls him up._

 _"Come on, let's go upstairs for a bit," Alfred says, his eyes straying over toward the door of the kitchen frequently. He can hear shouting and crashes and banging coming from the room as he brings his brother with him. He wishes that they'd stop fighting. He hopes it at least_ stays _in the kitchen this time._

Alfred notices an ice cream truck parked a bit away. He looks to Matthew and sees that he has the adults talking now. At least they aren't yelling. He then turns back to the kids. "How about some ice cream while we wait for your parents to finish talking with my brother?"

"We're not supposed to accept food from strangers," Beth says.

"And that's a wonderful rule," Alfred says, nodding. "But I'm not giving you food. I'm buying it for you. Don't you parents ever buy you ice cream?"

Beth nods slowly.

"I'm doing the same thing," Alfred says. "And you can see your parents the whole time. We'll come right back here."

Beth, again, slowly nods and follows Alfred. He notices that she keeps one step ahead of Ricky and keeps ahold of his hand. All the way there. She tries to order the cheapest thing, despite constantly looking at the picture of a double scoop of raspberry, and he says that she can have whatever she wants. When she doubts it, he repeats that she can order whichever she wants. She's shy as she orders the double raspberry.

 _Alfred doesn't ask for much when they go out somewhere. He knows that money is a problem. He doesn't want them to fight again. He keeps ahead of Matthew…just in case._

When they get back to the bench, both kids sit down and Alfred sits on the one facing it so he can keep an eye on them and the adults. He catches sight of an odd coloring on Beth's shoulder that he hadn't noticed before. His eyes widen. He's seen that kind of mark too many times before. He's worn it a couple of times.

 _A glass flies and Alfred and Matthew duck under the kitchen table. Why did they have to start at breakfast? Alfred stares between the two arguing adults and the door to the rest of the house behind them. There's no way he could get himself and Matthew past them without them seeing. He tells Matthew to stay there before rushing out from under the table to try and break them apart. Maybe they can still enjoy their food before it's gone cold. Before he can say anything, there's pain on his face and they stop fighting. Horror on both adults faces as Alfred curls on the ground, holding his face, the floor getting wet from pink tinged tears._

Alfred swallows and turns to Matthew, hoping that his brother would be able to tell him if it's a long term problem, or if it was a one off mistake. If it was the latter, then there shouldn't be a problem. If it was the former…well, one of those adults won't be having a good day anytime soon.

~*-(TwInsanity)-*~

They've been talking calmly for about five minutes now. Matthew watches as Alfred takes the kids to an ice cream truck and has to hold back a snigger. His brother would think of that as a good distraction. Though it does seem to work. He turns his attention back to the adults. They're making good headway, a lot of their problems being talked over. He can tell that there's a lot of hurt hiding there.

 _"You don't understand! You don't listen! Damn it Francis, I don't want to fight with you about this, but you give me no choice!"_

 _"Why do you keep hiding Arthur? Why can't you ever tell me what you're really feeling?"_

The woman's been quiet for a few moments and stares at the man. "What I really need you to do…what I really want you to promise…is that you'll cut back on the liquor. Not quit completely, but cut back. Instead of having a half a bottle a night, maybe just one drink. Or maybe only drink if you're out with your friends. I can't…I can't do _that_ anymore."

The man blinks. "I'm not that…"

"I swear to god, if you say I'm not that bad I will tear your tongue out!" the woman snarls, her eyes flashing.

The man stops. He seems to take in his wife. She standing there, trembling. Her eyes are swimming, but still defiant. She's got her fists clenched, but her shoulders are hunched. Matthew sees the moment it clicks for him. The moment when he realizes what's been going on. What he's almost done. What he's almost lost. After all, he's seen that moment before.

 _"Non! You need to stop! Arthur, I've had enough! You cannot constantly be drunk anymore!" Francis shouts._

 _Arthur seems to stare at Francis for a few moments before a tear drops from his eyes. Then another. And another. Until the Englishman is curled up on the floor bawling his eyes out. Francis seems startled at first, and then his face softens. He walks over to England and sits next to him, pulling him into a hug._

 _"It's ok mon amour, we'll work through it together."_

"I'm sorry…I'm so so sorry…I…I'll do anything…I'll go to that therapist you've been talking about…just please…please don't leave me," the man says, voice rough and low.

The woman's face breaks with relief as she nods. The two walk to each other and pull one another into a hug. Matthew feels a smile cross his face and glances over. Alfred is walking over with both kids, the boy talking at a thousand miles an hour, and the girl smiling for the first time Matthew's seen. The kids both run over and join the hug. Alfred steps alongside him and both of them just watch them for a bit. Eventually the family breaks apart and the mother and her kids start to gather things up and the father comes over.

"Thank you," the man says. "I…I didn't realize…just thank you."

Matthew smiles. "Just work at keeping your family together and happy, and that'll be all the thanks I need."

As the man turns around Matthew turns to Alfred. Alfred seems to pause a moment before pulling out a paper and pen, scribbling something down quickly. "Sir!"

The father turns around. "Yes?"

Alfred walks over. "I've a friend that needs some help, this is the address and phone number for his business. Give him a call and say Alfred sent ya."

The man blinks in confusion for a moment before smiling. "Thank you so much! But…how'd you know?"

Alfred shrugs. "Twin telepathy isn't a complete myth."

The man chuckles before waving to both of them and joining his family. He hugs his wife, gives her a kiss on the cheek, and then picks up his son. As the four of them walk off, Alfred and Matthew watch. Matthew smiles slightly, knowing that they have a good chance of keeping their family together, and maybe becoming happy again. He turns to Alfred and sees shadows in his brother's eyes before they disappear and Alfred smiles at him. Alfred slings his arm across Matthew's shoulders and the brothers wander back over to Arthur and Francis. They don't notice the looks the older countries are giving their ex-colonies, a mixture of pride and sadness. They don't notice the look the two Europeans exchange. But as soon as they reach their parents, Alfred and Matthew are brought into a hug. Both boys are surprised at first, but smile.

 **AN/ So...I'm not entirely sure where this came from, other than I was just playing around on youtube and saw the song "Family Portrait" by Pink with pictures of the FACE family put with it and...idk...I'm hesitant about this one just because the topic is a little...touchy with me. Anyway, I'll work on something happier for next time and it should have Mexico back in it as well (I miss that little bugger.).**


	9. Pet Playdate

Eduardo sighs, looking around the meeting with nothing less than pure undying boredom. Why, oh why, is he the one that has to sit through this annoying and dull presentation. He huffs and rolls his eyes as he remembers how that conversation went.

 _"But why do I have to be the one who sits through the presentations? Won't it be more noticeable that Alfred's missing?" Eduardo asks. He'll deny to anyone that he's more whining than anything._

 _Matthew shrugs. "Actually, Al frequently skips when Antonio presents. Usually cause he can bribe Gilbert into giving him the notes, but no one would blink at him being missing."_

 _"Wait…what?" Eduardo blinks. "How come I've never noticed?"_

 _"Because you're usually drooling on your notebook during Antonio's presentations," Alfred says around a screwdriver in his mouth._

 _"If you're not there, how do you know that!?"_

 _Matthew and Alfred just start laughing, causing Eduardo to fume and forget what they'd been talking about as he tries to argue that he doesn't drool in his sleep._

Eduardo huffs again. _Pendejo_ _Gabachos_ , Eduardo thinks before giving himself a firm mental shake. This whole thing better be worth it, otherwise Alfred and Matthew would remember quite quickly how bad his temper can get.

His attention is brought back to what he's waiting on when the door slams open during the middle of Spain's speech. All nations in attendance turn to the disruption and the human messenger pauses at all eyes suddenly being on him.

"Gracias Madre de Dios," Eduardo mutters. He watches the messenger walk in and head directly for Germany. Everyone is silent, wanting to try and hear what the man says, however the man has obviously had to do things such as this before since he manages to avoid having even the closest eavesdroppers hear what he tells the blond nation. Germany's eyes flash in surprise and then continue to widen in something that looks like worry. The nations watch as the messenger leaves, then all turn back to Germany. Germany realizes that he's the center of attention rather quickly and clears his throat.

"It would seem…" Germany says. He pauses and his hand makes an aborted motion toward his head, probably to pinch the bridge between his eyes as the man is oft to do during really strenuous meetings. "It would seem that our pets have gone missing."

Noise breaks out as everyone begins to talk at once. Everyone clambering to be heard over everyone else. Eduardo holds back a smirk and hits send on his phone. The message on his way to Matthew (it would have been Alfred, but to be honest, he probably can't be trusted to check his phone right now.), Eduardo waits for a few more moments before letting out a shrill whistle. Everyone in the room stops talking and turns to him.

"Amigos, let's not panic. I'm sure we'll hear from whomever is at fault for this shortly," Eduardo says. Various phones chime across the room, and Eduardo has to hide a smirk at how good Matthew's timing is. He glances down at his own phone, checking on where they'd set up everything, before turning his attention back to the room at large. "Well, shall we go see who decided to pull all of our pets into this playdate?"

"And we should just go along with it?" England asks, eyebrows raising. "We don't know who took them, what for, nor anything else. Am I the only one who this this entire bit screams set up?"

"I highly doubt that it is a set up," Eduardo says, giving a slight shrug. "Now come on tu obstinado cabrón."

England's eyes narrow as though he knows he was just insulted, but can't determine what the insult was. The island nation drops it as everyone else stands and begins to make their way to the door and then the elevators. Eduardo walks along, whistling slightly, as the whole crowd of nations makes their way toward the beach that Alfred had somehow convinced Eduardo to let them use for this event. Since they were holding the meeting in Coatzacoalcos, it made it rather easy for Eduardo to agree, as he himself owned the beach they would be "Pah-Arty-ing!" (to quote Alfred) at. Eduardo and Matthew had both rolled their eyes at that comment and the middle nation had received a simultaneous smack on the back of the head from his neighbors.

Eduardo eventually takes the lead, following the worn steps down to the beach proper, smirking as he can already hear the barking of so many dogs. He bets at least four of those dogs belong to Germany. As they take a slight curve and the sheer sea of animals comes to sight, all of the other nations sprint past him toward their pets. Sure enough, four of the hounds make a beeline for the Germanic blond, knocking him down in their joy at seeing him. Eduardo's dog, Cordero, came running over. Despite what some people would probably thing. Cordero isn't a Chihuahua. Instead, he's a mutt of some kind that Eduardo had found and grown attached to when he was walking around in Mexico City. Cordero is a medium sized dog of mainly brown and white fur with some black markings along his legs and tail tip. Eduardo kneels down and murmurs to Cordero as he scratches the pup behind the ears.

"Please tell me you got a recording of everyone's faces!"

Eduardo looks up, chuckling as Alfred jogs up to him, a medium sized russet colored Terrier Chow mix and large Goldendoodle trotting alongside him. Eduardo pauses, caught off guard at seeing Rex and Buddy, but not Lee. It's been about half a year since Lee, a large gray furred mutt with fur that looked like a mustache and beard around his snout, had passed away. Alfred had been heartbroken when Lee had died, even though he rescued the dog as an older dog and knew it would happen sooner than later.

"Sí, I'd set up some cameras a bit before the meeting started," Eduardo answers. He looks around and his eyebrows furrow. "¿Dónde está Matthew?"

"Por los árboles," Alfred says, pointing. "Sabes que odia el calor."

Eduardo laughs. "Yeah, he really does. Let's go join him."

The two start walking over toward Matthew, talking with each other and watching as the other nations all relax and play with their pets. It's amazing how they're all relaxing more than on any previous meeting. Even nations that normally don't get along, such as Prussia and Austria, seem to be rather mellow around each other with their pets nearby. Of course, that will probably change with someone realizes that there are Nerf water guns around, but the atmosphere is relaxed for now.

Matthew looks up as Eduardo and Alfred near. The Canadian is stripped of his usual clothes and is instead in a pair of white swim trunks and a set of flip flops next to him. There's also a giant bottle of sunscreen next to him as he tends to turn into a lobster around too much sun. Nanuq is also in the shade and Matthew's cat, Puck, is lounging on the bear and keeping a lazy eye on Whale-Dude (who is currently acting as a lifeguard and diving board for the micronations).

"Got your sunscreen on?" Alfred asks, raising an eyebrow at the northern Nation.

Matthew rolls his eyes. "Yes mom."

"Hey! Not cool man," Alfred says. "I just don't wanna hear you bitchin' about being burned later."

"You do tend to mother hen him mi hermano," Eduardo says.

"Don't you start too." Alfred gives Eduardo a mock glare.

Eduardo smirks. "Will you put me in time out if I do?"

Matthew bites his lip to keep from laughing and Alfred's eyes narrow even further. Eduardo barely has any time to realize what's happening before he's hanging over Alfred's shoulder and he sees the sand racing below him.

"¿Qué demonios estás haciendo?" Eduardo shouts. He then looks at where Alfred's running and his eyes widen. "Dejar de loco gabacho!"

Alfred, of course, ignores him, and continues his rocket path to the water. A few seconds later and Eduard feels the water spraying on him and hitting his feet. A moment later and he's thrown into the air. He takes in a breath before hitting the water. It's warm, much like bath water that's been sitting for just a bit, and Eduardo is mentally thankful that he doesn't have his phone on him. As he surfaces, Eduardo shakes his head a bit, trying to keep the water from his eyes, before turning his attention to the laughing idiot in front of him.

"Oh…it's on…" Eduardo mutters. He tackles Alfred, surprising the blond, and causing them both to submerge again. It quickly delves into a wrestling match between the two, luckily with Alfred holding back on a lot of his strength, which has the other nations watching and taking bets. The match ends in a tie. Or, rather, it's forced to end in a tie as Whale-Dude decides to slap his tail along the water, drenching Eduardo, Alfred, and the crowd gathered on the beach.

Eduardo, luckily, had his back turned to Whale-Dude, so he just shakes his head again. Alfred, however, had been facing where Whale-Dude is. The blue eyed man just turns his head to the side and spits out some water before smiling at Eduardo. Eduardo scoffs, but smiles in return. While Alfred heads further out into the water, Rex and Buddy finally deciding that it should be safe, chasing after him, Eduardo heads toward land and Matthew. Cordero meets him about halfway, tail whipping back and forth as the pup gives quiet barks. Eduardo smiles and begins to play a game of chase with him, the two of them ducking and dodging around other nations as they head toward everyone's favorite Canadian.

"Have fun?" Matthew calls out. He's somehow acquired a drink that looks like a margarita.

Eduardo chuckles. "Amazingly, yes. It's nice to roughhouse once in a while."

"You should try it more often," Matthew says.

"I'll leave that to you and the idiot out there." Eduardo unbuttons his dress shirt, which needs a dire cleaning now, and pulls it and his undershirt off, setting them to the side. Eduardo then groans when he realizes that he has his wallet on him. He flops to the ground and pulls his wallet from his pocket and begins to pull apart the money that had been in there, being careful so as not to rip it.

"And this is why I have waterproof money," Matthew says, taking a sip of his drink.

Eduardo just rolls his eyes and nudges the Canadian with his foot. Cordero settles along Eduardo's side, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. Eduardo smiles at the pup, running a hand along his side and gently petting him for a few moments before returning to his task of getting everything in his wallet separated so it can dry. Once that's done, he leans back and watches the other nations. Everyone seems to be having fun. A lot of the northern nations tend to be more cautious in the heat, some of them relaxing in the shade like Matthew, an others staying in the deeper areas of the water like Russia. Eduardo's eyes narrow and he looks closer at Russia. The man has one of the Nerf water guns and seems to be peering about cautiously. The reason for that caution becomes evident a moment later when Alfred and Belarus pop out of the water from opposite sides of the Russian and squirt him with their own water guns.

"Let's hope that doesn't delve into anything worse than what it is," Germany says as he wanders over, his small pack of dogs following.

Matthew waves the German's concern away. "Don't worry about it. I threatened to have Alfred by my goalie for hockey practice if he causes any trouble with Ivan."

Eduardo laughs at the thought and Germany relaxes at that. The three of them chat for a bit before Germany heads toward France to remind him that while naked beaches are perfectly fine, this is not the time or place to participate in such as some of the nations are rather protective of what their micro-nations see. Eduardo thinks that they're being overprotective, but doesn't say anything. He knows that France won't put up a real fuss about it, just give Germany a bit of a headache for fun. Plus, Eduardo knows that the real reason Francis is getting ready to strip off his swim trunks is because he's wearing a Speedo underneath and just wants to see England throw a fit about that fact. For some reason, the island nation really doesn't like Speedos.

"So," Eduardo pauses, "Think it was a success?"

Matthew smiles. "Definitely. Everyone needed a break like this. Let's just hope that none of the other nations still hold it against it that we practically kidnapped their pets to allow this to happen."

"Maybe one will throw a fit just to throw a fit, but I doubt it," Eduardo says. He leans back and lays down, settling in against the sand. The chorus of laughter, various animal noises, the ocean, and the light huffing of Cordero lulling him to that space between being asleep and being awake.

 **AN/ Hey, lookie there, an update! And it's in Mexico's POV! Hope you all think I did him justice. I feel that he would be a bit more mature than Alfred and Matthew, but still prone to childishness when the moment strikes. This chapter is based off of the review by DragonAngel FunandFire.**

 **Ok, so another reminder, I don't speak very much Spanish and am in no way fluent. Therefore, if there's a mistake, I apologize. Also, a quick note, since this is in Mexico's POV, I tried using Spanish more native to Mexico. I grew up next to a family who lived in Mexico and I remember them teaching me a lot of words and phrases that I then couldn't repeat in front of my parents. One of those words is gabacho. Gabacho, if I remember correctly, is the word Mexicans use to refer to Caucasians rather than gringo. If I'm wrong, or if it's actually horribly offensive and derogatory, someone PLEASE let me know as I really don't remember because this was at least 15 years ago that I learned that, so I'm rustier than anything on it.  
**

 **Anyway, thank you all for reading, reviewing, alerting, and favorite-ing. While I'm working on the next chapter, please check out _Welcome to the Family_ by AngelOfPride which is a cute oneshot of Prussia's thoughts on meeting his boyfriend's family for the first time. I'd also suggest _In Need of Representation_ by Mayhem 21, which is one of the few stories I've found (and have seriously loved and reread quite a few times) that adventures into the thought of what would happen if a nation isn't found by another nation as a kid.**


	10. Out of Order

Matthew groans as he rolls out of bed. He swipes his hand at his alarm clock and misses the first time. Shaking his head and blinking, he reaches over and turns the screeching monstrosity off. He stands and heads toward his bathroom, stubbing his toe on his boots and swearing afterwards. Stepping into the cold tiled room, he groans, wondering if Nanuq moved the bathmat sometime during the night. He staggers to his vanity and enters in the combination to unlock the drawer with his supplies in it. Ever since the prank war between him and Alfred in 1980 something he's kept his bathing supplies locked up. Especially his shampoo. He was not going to be rocking a Nair inspired hairdo again anytime soon. After grabbing his things, he blinks at the sight of his shower curtain. He could've sworn that he'd left the curtain closed after getting out yesterday. Shrugging the confusion off as him being in a rush to get to work, he continues his morning habits.

Matthew turns off the water and reaches for his towel. Which isn't on its bar. Groaning in annoyance, he stretches and grabs a new one. As he's tying the towel around his waist, his cell starts ringing.

"Oh come on," Matthew mutters, rushing over to see who's calling. He glances at the ID before answering and putting the phone on speaker. "What have I told you about changing your ringtone on my phone?"

"Uh, to do it anytime I wanted to and that you welcome the variety," Alfred says, his voice slightly tinny. "Hey, fucktard, learn to drive!"

Matthew snorts. "I take offense to that, I'm not even driving."

"Not you," Alfred says, his voice a bit growl-y.

Matthew chuckles. And then promptly swears when he stubs his toe on his bookshelf. He jumps on one foot, glaring at the offending piece of furniture.

"What's wrong?" Alfred asks, his voice turning toward its 'mother hen' tone. "You ok?"

"I'm fine. Just stubbed my toe on my bookcase," Matthew says. "I don't remember it being that close to my closet."

Alfred's silent for a moment. "Did Nanuq move it while you were sleeping? Maybe he nudged it while laying down."

"Possible," Matthew says. He sorts through his closet, looking for a decent shirt to wear to the airport. He pulls out a lime green button up shirt and tilts his head, wondering when he'd gotten it before remembering that it'd been Alfred's before he'd "forgotten" it at Matthew's house. Matthew tosses it into the top corner of his closet, where he'd been sure it was at before this morning, and pulls out a black t-shirt and red hoodie and a pair of jeans. Matthew clears his throat, "Though if he had, then he had a busy night. He'd moved my bathmat too."

"Really? That is rather active for him. Is it a full moon?" Alfred asks.

Matthew frowns, staring at his phone with furrowed eyebrows as he's getting dressed. He's quiet because he's not quite sure if Alfred's joking. Plus, Alfred had just started cursing out someone else's driving habits and complaining how his grandmother could drive faster.

"Alfred, we don't have a grandmother," Matthew says.

Alfred's silent for a moment. "True."

"And even if we did, she'd probably be dead by now."

"Also true."

"What did you call me for anyway? Shouldn't you be on your way to pick me up to head to the airport?" Matthew asks.

Alfred snorts. "I'd called because I needed to tell you that I was on my way to your house. In fact, this is the second call that I'd made to you."

Matthew throws his hoodie on and pulls his boots over, shoving his feet in them. "Really?"

"Really. In fact, I _was_ going to let you know that I was five minutes out, but we got off topic before I could," Alfred says.

"Oh and how close are you now?" Matthew asks.

Matthew's bedroom door opens, and Alfred smirks at him from the door way.

"Oh, about half a second," Alfred says, ending the phone call. He's in a pair of nice jeans, a dark blue v-neck shirt, black blazer, and some of his nicer shoes. Matthew raises his eyebrows at the outfit.

"A bit dressed up for a trans-Atlantic flight, aren't you?" Matthew asks.

Alfred rolls his eyes as he pulls out a different phone. Matthew recognizes this one as his work phone. "Yeah, well, I had to meet with someone from the Department of State and then some snob from Congress this morning."

Matthew watches as his brother's fingers fly across the screen of the phone for a moment before shaking his head and looking around for his suitcase. He frowns when it's not under the window, but is sitting innocently to the right of it. He could've sworn he placed it under the window. He shakes his head again and grabs the infernal thing, plopping it onto his bed to go through his clothes once more and make sure that he hadn't forgotten anything. Once satisfied, he redoes the zipper and sets it on the ground. He looks to Alfred to let him know that he just has a couple more things to do before they leave, but chuckles at the sight of his brother scowling at his phone—no, wait, phones (the second work phone has come out now) with obvious irritation. It's his 'I can't believe I have to work with you idiots' face. Matthew just smiles, grabs the handle of his luggage, and maneuvers his brother down the stairs and to the barstools in the kitchen. After prodding his southern neighbor into a chair, Matthew begins tidying a few things up and preparing the house for his departure. Once he's done, Nanuq is pawing at the cabinet again, Matthew grabs the bear and walks back to Alfred. The American is in the same spot that Matthew left him in, though his personal phone is out now as well. Matthew glances at it and notes that it's a text conversation between him and Arthur.

"Al, we need to get going or we'll be late," Matthew says.

Alfred nods, not tearing his eyes away from the screen. "Alright. Can you drive? I've got a few things to finish up before the flight."

Matthew laughs. "How the hell did you manage to drive here?"

"Bluetooth." Alfred shrugs, standing. He somehow misses the luggage on his way to the door, even swerving around Nanuq, who had wiggled from Matthew's grasp and was running to the door.

Matthew just grabs his luggage and reaches into the bowl that he usually keeps his car keys. And his fingers scrape empty glass. Frowning, he looks into the bowl and scowls when he can't find his keys within it. He begins to look around the kitchen, wondering if he's set them down somewhere else. When he doesn't see them, he growls and slams his fist onto the counter.

"Bro, something wrong?"

Matthew turns and sees Alfred watching him, concern in his eyes.

"I can't find my car keys. They're not where I usually put them and on top of everything else, I can't help but wonder if I'm losing my mind. My alarm clock was at the opposite end of my bedside table, my boots were at the end of my bed rather than by the door, my bathroom rug is missing, my shower curtain was open, my towel hadn't been on its bar, my bookshelf had been moved over, that stupid lime green shirt you supposedly forgot here was hanging up rather than crumpled in its top corner, my suitcase wasn't under my bedroom window, and now my keys are missing," Matthew rants. He huffs and sits on a barstool, placing his hands in his head and groaning. "That's it, I'm going crazy."

Alfred snorts. "You missed the fact that your TV was also shifted, your hockey sticks are in the opposite corner, your recliner has moved forward a foot, the pictures along your staircase have changed order, and the bananas that you had in your fruit bowl have been replaced by kumquats."

Matthew looks up and then glances around, noticing that everything Alfred mentioned was true. Feeling suspicious, Matthew finally turns his attention back to his brother, who is smirking.

"Your car keys are by the door," Alfred mentions. "Oh, and your maple syrup has been dyed blue."

Matthew's jaw drops and he rushes to his cabinet. Sure enough, his maple syrup is now blue. And not just a dark blue or whatever. It's electric neon blue. Matthew's eyes narrow and he slowly turns to his brother, who is grinning in smug satisfaction.

"You—you—you complete and utter asshole!" Matthew snarls.

Alfred smirks. "Paybacks a bitch, ain't it? That's for the glitter."

Matthew's eyes narrow as he watches the blue eyed demon saunter out the door. The snap of it closing breaks Matthew from his thoughts and he takes off at a run, grabbing the handle of his suitcase and snatching his keys as he leaves the house, somehow remembering to lock the door. From his porch, he can see the blond with a death wish throw on his helmet and take off on his motorcycle. Matthew's eyes narrow and he mentally vows to get revenge for this during the next week.

 **AN/ I'm alive! Maybe. I suppose. Anyway, finally got something done for this. I've actually got a couple of other ideas that I need to write up, but I have no idea when they'll be done. Oh, and real quick, to any of my readers who are Russian or who speak Russian, what is a word used at the end of a toast that means cheers, or something similar to that idea? I need it for a chapter that's coming up in here. Yes, that means we'll all see our favorite Russian appear again. Though this time, in a slightly more detailed role. I'm just hoping that I do him justice.**

 **Also, question two, and this is more of a general query, would anyone be interested in seeing a history fic? Basically, what I was thinking of doing is a fiction where I take various events that have happened and look at them from the perspective of a country. I'll admit, I plan on starting with America (I'm American and know the most about American history), but was also planning on branching out into other countries as well. If you think this is something you'd be interested in reading, let me know. If you think that this is way overdone and you don't want another fic like that on here, let me know that as well.**

 **Finally, thank you everyone for your support, whether that be in reviews or following this story.**


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